


Wherein Chinese Whispers About Merlin's Sex Life Are Eerily Accurate

by lepidolite



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Kinks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lepidolite/pseuds/lepidolite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing's sweeter than vanilla. Or so Merlin's heard.<br/>Friendship! Romance! Drama! And boyfriends who are just too kinky!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherein Chinese Whispers About Merlin's Sex Life Are Eerily Accurate

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the distant past of September Last Year for [this](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/25900.html?thread=26474284#t26474284) prompt at the Kink Meme. It took me this long to de-anon because of reasons.  
> I am well aware that I can't write a summary to save my life.

“It’s not like it’s not good. I mean, it’s really good. Like, _really, really, **good.**_ Like…”

Merlin waved his hand vaguely, almost tipping over the remaining half of his pint that he had been nursing. Lance, being the nice guy that he was, braved his mate’s flailing arm to stop the shuddering glass from upending.

“But once, _just fucking once_ , I would like him to make sweet, sweet love to me. Shit, I’d even settle for _one_ sweet. I want vanilla. What’s wrong with vanilla? Why must we have rocky road with sprinkles and chocolate sauce and things?”

Lancelot agreed that, indeed, there was nothing wrong with vanilla.

“And I’m not saying that I don’t _like_ the kinky stuff. ‘Cause I do. I am _good_ with the dildos and the butt plugs. I am _content_ using paddles and vibrating cockrings. Even the urethral sound was worth a good go--”

 Lancelot politely informed him that this was encroaching on the TMI area.

“Sorry.” Merlin sighed. His whole upper half flopped ungracefully forward and Lance caught the back of his shirt, lowering him carefully so Merlin’s forehead ended up resting on the slightly sticky placemat. “I just… I want _him_ , not his toys. Just… him. Is that so much to ask?”

Lancelot indicated that no, it was not.

Merlin turned his head to look at him, his temple flat against the table and hair starting to trail in something that someone before them had spilled.

“Don’t tell anybody. Arthur’ll find out and then he’ll get grumpy and hurt and we’ll fight and then he’ll cry mantears and pretend that he isn’t and then I will get no sex at all for like a month or maybe worse.”

Lancelot swore to it.

 

______________________________________________________

 

But, of course, Merlin should have known that Lancelot has a permanent unspoken clause: “except Gwen”.

“I will never date one of my friend’s exes _(except Gwen)_.“

“I will never ever share my food with anyone _(except Gwen)_.“

“I won’t tell anybody at all about my best mate’s torrid yet emotionally unfulfilling sexy sex adventures with his boyfriend _(except Gwen)_.”

So, naturally, when he got home, the two of them curled up like kittens on the couch in front of the tv and he told her everything.

(“What’s a urethral sound?”

Lancelot didn’t know, so they looked it up.

Their simultaneous expressions on the borderline of horrified and fascinated would have won gold at the shit-that-ridiculously-cute-couples-do Olympics.

“That’s… um. Okay.”

“I didn’t even think you could put things _in_ there…”

They both vowed not to speak about that again.)

“You can’t tell anybody about this, Gwen. Merlin trusts us not to.”

Gwen promised that she wouldn’t, and they went back to watching Top Chef.

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

Lance really should have realised that Gwen didn’t consider Morgana amongst the “anybody” that she couldn’t tell.

Morgana was her sister in every way but blood. There was nothing that she wouldn’t confide in her. What they had was amongst the most hallowed of epic bromances -- with girls instead, of course, but there didn’t seem to be a special word for that. Morgana had protested against that fact more than once. Gwen just took her to their favourite coffee shop with the poofy seats and healed her grumpy with hot chocolate, and everything was okay again.

And it was in this very situation Gwen told her about Merlin’s plight.

“Why doesn’t he just _say_ something?”

“You know Merlin. Complains about everything but the things that matter.” Gwen smiled wryly. “Anyway, I don’t think I could imagine a more awkward conversation.”

Morgana agreed absentmindedly. Gwen was worried by the look in her eyes.

“…You’re not going to tell Arthur, are you?”

“Gwen, dear,” Morgana patted her hand. “Of course I am.”

Gwen sighed.

 

___________________________________________________________________

 

And, of course, Morgana did just that.

Arthur stared.

“Excuse me, _what_?”

“Merlin is getting tired of the games and just wants you to fuck him.” Morgana repeated. “I don’t see how I could make this any clearer. Should I use smaller words?”

“We do _plenty_ of fucking thanks, not that it’s _any_ of your business.”

“No, dearest brother,” and, as usual, she made that sound like an insult. “He wants you to, and I quote, make sweet, sweet love to him. He’d even settle for _one_ sweet, and honestly I personally think even that’s a stretch for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have shit to do and places to be.”

Morgana strode out of Arthur’s office, leaving him gaping gormlessly in her wake.

 

____________________________________________________________________

 

Gwen was right. It was one of the most awkward conversations Merlin and Arthur had ever had.

(“ _Really, Mer_ lin, you can’t tell me what you want with our sex life but you can tell _Morgana_?”)

The end result was pretty fantastic, though. It was even worth _three_ sweets, so _there_.

_**End** _


End file.
